


Breakfast Food

by sicktodeathoflogic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Tumblr Post, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4620273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sicktodeathoflogic/pseuds/sicktodeathoflogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is stood up but gets a date with a stranger instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast Food

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little work I typed out in twenty minutes after reading a post by likedhemmins.

“More coffee, honey?”

Clarke managed to cheerfully smile back at the waitress. “Yes, please.” She knew what she was going to ask next.

“Would you like to order now?”

Clarke grimaced at the empty booth seat across from her. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

She just caught the sympathetic look in the waitresses’ eye - as well as the eyes of several other patrons of Grounders' 24 Hour Diner - before pretending to peruse the menu, as she had done for the past thirty minutes. Why Finn was late, she had no idea. It was his idea to have a date night every Thursday at this particular diner, so the least he could do was show up or answer his goddamn phone.

Clarke didn’t really need to look at the menu to know what she wanted: the three pancake special with bacon and eggs. Clarke could just see Finn’s amused smile when she got her meal, asking her for the millionth time why she ordered breakfast food for dinner.

When he showed up, she was going to tell him how much that irritated her.

If he showed up.

After forty-five minutes, Clarke had heard one too many “oh dears” whispered behind hands for her liking. She grabbed her purse, ready to tip that waitress - Octavia, was it? - considerably for putting up with her bullshit pretense all evening, when someone slid into the booth across from her.

“Sorry I’m so late, babe, the traffic is absolutely terrible.”

Clarke gaped like a fish. This person who had practically announced his presence to the whole diner was making himself comfortable in _Finn’s_ spot and looking at her expectantly. Clarke looked him up and down, as if to say, “Who the hell are you?”

The man leaned over the table. “I’m Bellamy. Just go with it, okay?” he said, gesturing to the air between them. “Whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.”

Clarke frowned, but noticed the attention they were drawing from the rest of the diner (honestly, didn’t these busybodies have anything better to do?) and set her purse back down. She was doing this to save face, she decided. This had nothing to do with the mysteriously handsome man who saved her from utter embarrassment. Absolutely nothing.

“So,” Clarke said, smiling a little behind her menu, “do you often rescue girls who’re stood up by their boyfriends? Or were you just passing by?”

Bellamy smirked. “I came to give my sister some snacks for her late shift here,” he replied, eyeing the waitress who served Clarke earlier. “She mentioned you’d been here for a while, and the people here can be a little quick to judge, so I stepped in.”

“My name’s Clarke,” she said quickly before adding, “and thank you.”

Bellamy found her eyes over the mug he was rising to his lips and stopped. His gaze was warm. “No problem.”

They were interrupted by a whirlwind of black braids and dirty dishes stacked on a tray. “Okay, I know I don’t know you, but I feel like you should know the truth!”

Clarke blinked at Octavia. “What?”

Octavia bit her lip. “Your boyfriend? The one with the long brown hair? He’s cheating on you with this other girl!”

“Jesus, O!” Bellamy groaned. “Clarke’s having enough of a shitty evening!”

Clarke ignored him. “Cheating on me? How do you know?”

“He brings this other girl here every Friday evening and he’s,” Octavia searched for the right words, “ _friendly_ with her, too. It’s been going on for months.”

“Months?” Clarke let that sink in for a minute, before letting out a little hollow laugh. “I’ve only known Finn for a month.”

Octavia went silent, and Bellamy shook his head at her.

Clarke took a deep breath and closed her menu shut. “Well, Octavia, I’ll have the three pancake special with bacon and eggs.” Octavia looked at her quizzically. “What? Just because I’ve found out that I’m the ‘other woman’ doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.”

Bellamy looked at Clarke with a mix of humor and pride. “I’ll have the scrambled eggs with home fries and sausage, O.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she scoffed, snatching up the menus. “Like you order anything else when you’re here.”

Clarke stared at Bellamy in awe. “You have breakfast food for dinner?”

Bellamy shrugged. “I could have breakfast food all day, every day.”

Clarke laughed, her chest feeling lighter than it had all evening.

* * *

The night air felt cool on Clarke’s skin as she left the diner and made her way to her car, Bellamy instinctively putting a hand at her back. This was the best date she’d had in a long time, and it wasn’t even planned! She was almost sad to see it end.

“So,” she started, standing against her car door, “thanks again for tonight.”

“Don’t mention it,” Bellamy said. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Um, do you think you’d want to do this again? For real, this time.”

“Yeah,“ Clarke murmured. “I’d like that.”

Bellamy’s face lit up like fireworks as he reached for his phone immediately to get her number.

“Don’t worry about that,” Clarke said, stepping into her car. “I already wrote my number on Octavia’s check.”


End file.
